Free A Kiss and a Promise by Katie Flynn Page A

that the ship was almost literally torn in half. No time now to form orderly queues let alone launch boats. The ship was going under too fast for such niceties. Within minutes of the explosion, Michael found himself in the water. He knew he must get away from the sinking vessel which could so easily drag him under, but the darkness was complete and he could not tell in which direction safety – or comparative safety – lay.
    He glanced around him but the sea was now quite choppy and though silhouettes of other ships in the convoy occasionally came into view when he reached a crest, they were speedily lost as he plunged once more into a trough. A plank hit him, crashing heavily into the side of his head and making him feel sick and dizzy for a moment. Then he realised that it might save his life and turned wildly to stare after it as it bobbed away out of reach.
    It seemed to him that he swam and floated for hours without seeing any sign of other men, but then he had a bit of luck. An oar floated past and this time he grabbed it and wedged it beneath his arms, unutterably relieved to be able to stop swimming if only for a moment.
    The sea no longer seemed quite so rough and Michael felt a deep and terrible weariness overcoming him. He mustn’t sleep … he mustn’t sleep …
    ‘It’s over! Them Germans have signed a paper – an armistice they call it – and the guns stopped firing yesterday!’ Mrs Bennett’s normally pale and rather puddingy face was flushed with excitement, her eyes bright with it. ‘When d’you reckon your young feller will be home to make an honest woman of you, eh?’
    The two women were in the kitchen. Stella was at the table breastfeeding Virginia whilst Mrs Bennett gobbled porridge. They smiled at one another, though it was an effort for Stella to smile at all right now. She was desperately worried about Michael, and despite her deep and abiding love for the baby in her arms she was still sure that he was, at any rate, in some sort of danger. Once more her placid nights had retreated under a hail of nightmares, all concerned with fire and enormous waves. She had been down to the shipping offices constantly, trying to get news, but so far she had been unsuccessful. Despite the fact that Germany had sued for peace at the end of October, the newspapers were full of conflicting reports. It seemed wicked, as well as absurd, that though peace had been agreed, the guns still thundered out their message of death until eleven o’clock on the eleventh day of the eleventh month. A cruel, needless way for perhaps hundreds of men to die, not defending their country, not even attacking the enemy, but simply dying so that some politician, somewhere, could boast that the armistice had been signed and the war ended at the exact hour of his choosing.
    Rather impatiently, Mrs Bennett repeated her last remark. ‘I spoke to you, Madam Toffee Nose! I said when d’you think your young man’ll come home?’
    ‘Oh, Mam, I’ve told you, I don’t know,’ Stella said with what patience she could muster. ‘But when Virginia’s finished drinking, I’ll go down to the shipping office, see whether there’s any news. Last time I went, they told me the Thunderbolt had turned for home, but they’ve had no wireless messages from her for ten days. It could be a technical fault, the feller said, and maybe, as she gets nearer home, she’ll be able to contact another ship. But until she does, we’re all in the dark.’
    ‘All right, all right,’ Mrs Bennett grumbled. ‘I just hope you hears before Victory Day – that’s the fifteenth – because there’s bound to be parties and all sorts of carryings-on and the last thing folks will want is to see your long face.’
    It was easily the nastiest thing her mother had ever said to her and Stella’s eyes widened in shock. Then she saw her mother’s anxious look and knew that she had only spoken so sharply because she was worried, perhaps not so much about Michael